Remembrance
by klovec
Summary: Klaus once professed that love is a vampire's greatest weakness and yet, he went in with full disclosure.


**_This one shot was inspired by a gif set someone posted on Tumblr. I went to post something about it that said why can't the writers just be smart and come up with a story that...and it was the plot for this._**

**_I thank EternityofKlaroline for listening to me babble about it and then having the heart to beta it. She's my ride or die chick! _**

**_I hope you all enjoy it. Please Klaroliners, stop losing hope. Let fanon shine the light for you that cannon is trying to extinguish._**

**_Credits: _**

**The songs are old Jazz. **

**_The first one, Sentimental Mood is a jazz piece by Duke Ellington and John Coltrane. My favorite Jazz piece in the world._**

**_Who's Sorry Now_**** that has been recorded by many different artists. **

**Billy Holliday's****_ He's Funny that Way_**** is a personal favorite. These days, it reminds me of the way Klaus loves Caroline.**

_**I hope you enjoy and I **_**_Thank you._**

**_Jay_**

* * *

He felt her the minute she walked in the room. Hell, he felt the change in his body the minute she stepped into the city. His city.

He took another sip of Bourbon and savored against his tongue as he listened to the heels click against the hardwood floor of the bar. As if on universal cue, _Sentimental Mood_ played in the background. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement complimented the soundtrack. He never turned around but he felt it all. When she paused and stared at his back. She breathed deeply and then strutted forward, one impossibly long leg in front of the other. He heard the bounce of her golden curls and the way they softly crashed against her shoulders. He didn't dare to look as her body gracefully sat in the stool next to him and she crossed her legs.

She looked at him expectantly. He waits. She waits. Finally, unable to hold any longer, he turns to her slowly. When his eyes fully collide with hers, he feels the familiar heart aching call. He lets her scent in as his eyes roam her face. Her blue eyes stare back and he sees the change in there. Then his eyes are drawn to her lips as they break into a warm smile.

The floor crumbles under him. It's so beautiful. Like the sun. It brightens it all, making life clear as day. But as beautiful as the sun is, it's meant not only to light but to heat.

And he knows he'll burn.

* * *

**Chicago, Illinois, 1920**

He shouldn't be here but he didn't know how not to be. He never had to follow anyone's rules before. He just didn't know how to. His nature didn't help. He was mad of two parts and each part represented one of the two most powerful creatures in the world. Though one was still dormant, when you put them together, it made for an extremely arrogant bastard. He could back up the cockiness, though. Ask anyone who ever dared cross him, they'll tell you. The only exception was a young girl in 1492 but he'll get to her. He was sure of it.

Tonight, he was here in search of a different girl. So he ditched his sister and her new love, his new friend, to come to this Speakeasy.

To watch her.

It was coincidental the way he had seen her, on the streets, with the group of black musicians. He had been searching for the singer he had heard the night before. He wanted a private song from her and maybe he would drain her after, letting the song die within him. He had seen the singer walk out of the house but before he could move forward, he heard her voice, and he froze in his tracks.

Like a ray of light she had darted out of the house calling after the beautiful browned skin woman. The other woman turned to smile at her and the blonde began talking fast. Something about a phone call and they were performing tonight. The other woman threw her arms around her and they laughed like girls. Soon, they were joined by the rest of the band and all began celebratory dances. He heard the name of the place, committed it to memory, and knew he would follow. As the others left, she stayed behind. A frown marred her beautiful face and she looked around. She clutched her heart and he knew she felt him. She knew she was being watched. Her friend came back out and called out to her. She snapped out of it and went back in. He flashed home and realized his hand had been on his chest as well.

That's how he ended up here, though he would be lying if he said that was the only reason. He watched her when she came and sat near the same group of musicians from earlier. Her female friend was the singer on stage. At the end of the song, she stood up and clapped. She looked like a goddess in her body fitted sparkling gown, her hair in a stylish side bun. The pianist yelled something and she laughed illuminating her whole face making her look angelic. She was unaware of how every man in the room watched her, how she had stopped all conversation. She had no idea how the sound of it made his heart rise to his throat.

A man from another table stood up and went over. Klaus' eyes hardened as he watched him approach her. The guy was a small town crook, Klaus recognized. He worked for big crime lord in the city. She gave him a polite smile but declined to dance. She wanted to hear her friend sing. When he asked her to save him a dance, she nodded and Klaus felt the green fury beginning to build. The man touched her arm and Klaus almost leaped from where he was sitting but the guy walked away. She sat back down. He told himself to calm down.

Klaus watched him go to the bathroom and followed him. He dragged him into the closet and snapped his neck after almost draining him. He walked into the bathroom to ensure no blood had gotten on him. While there, he caught his reflection in the mirror and he didn't recognize himself. There was a need he could see. His eyes were different. He should let her go her own way. This would do nothing for him in the end.

He was pulled away from his musings when he heard the singer start again. He started to panic when he realized it was a different one this time. She left. He flashed out of the bathroom and back into the main room only to stop in his tracks. It was her.

She was the singer this time.

She was belting out her own version of _Who's Sorry Now._ It was more soulful, more heart felt than the original. He felt the rise and fall of her voice as if fingers ran up and down his spike. Like a siren, it drew him forward. Until he was standing the middle of the floor, surrounded by dancers just watching her. Their eyes met as she sang.

_Who's sorry now, who's sorry now  
Whose heart is aching for breaking each vow  
Who's sad and blue, who's crying too  
Just like I cried over you_

She blinked at the man in the middle of the floor with eyes beautiful like gemstones. She couldn't look away from him, glued to his eyes. They pulled her so forcefully she worried she wouldn't be able to finish the song. But a new feeling began to take hold as her pulse quickened and then it happened. She was singing to him, never veering away from his eyes. All the words were for him.

The roaring applause woke her from the trance. She vowed to the crowd but as she walked off the stage, she bypassed everyone waiting to walk right up to him. She was a foot away when her mouth opened but no words would come out. A new song began and he offered his arm. She took it and they began to dance. She finally pulled back from his shoulder but still words couldn't come out and they just danced as they stared into each other's eyes.

They danced, communicating without words. He held her tight. She held his face in her hands inching closer, her lips feathering his. The scream startled her back.

They had discovered a dead body in a closet. People began to evacuate the premise and he escorted her out. She saw her friends across the street. She turned to him.

"I'll see you again?" Those were her first words to him.

He smiled, sadness dulling the blue out of his eyes. Then out of the corner of his eyes he saw the handsome couple a block away, his sister and Stefan.

He turned back to her and slowly shook his head.

"You'll forget me." He leaned into her lips one more time then let go of her. He smiled sadly. "You'll be better off for it, my beautiful songbird." His hand on her cheek.

She frowned. She looked away when someone shouted her name, and when she turned back, he was gone.

* * *

**_Two years later_**

He didn't have much time. Rebekah's coffin had already been loaded on to the ship. Mikael was close on their heels. He had seen to Stefan's safety and he would be leaving this city for good in the next hour. But he needed to see her. He knew the man would not be home. He climbed through the window. She was in the bed.

So beautiful. So very dead.

The object in his hand dropped close to his feet.

Despair shot through him like a canon, rocking his body until he fell on his knees. Her beautiful curls splayed on the pillow and her skin still looked like porcelain. She didn't look dead but the absence of a heartbeat was the dead giveaway. They had wanted to give him hope so in death they made sure she looked as beautiful so that it could haunt him forever.

He could read into their intentions. Mikael had always been an asshole and this alliance with the witches gave him the chance to bring it to a new level.

He walked to her on his knees ignoring the picture of her with her husband on their wedding day. He should have killed him then and taken his place. Tears formed in his eyes because he had not done that. He had given her the chance to be happy with someone else. That had been a first for him. Ever. He leaned to kiss her cheek. He wanted to climb on the bed and hold her like he had done on her wedding night while she slept, after compelling her husband to sleep on the couch. But there was no time. He would take her body with him, bury it.

As he reached for her, a little noise caught his attention. It came from the other side of her bed. He walked around and kneeled beside it when the covers suddenly flew back.

A wide eyed mini replica of her stared right into his eyes. He almost gasped in surprise. He didn't think the child would be here. The little girl smiled and reached to touch his face with her tiny hand. He felt it; she touched his soul. He sprang back away from it.

His throat clogged up. He leaned closer. "I'm a dream. Go back to sleep."

The little girl shook her head and smiled. The child just staring at him, and when he went to get up, she grabbed his hand and yelled loudly "No!"

It was awkward. He was unsure what to do. So he sat there until her eyes closed and she went to sleep.

He paused at the window and looked back at them. He considered waiting for her husband to get home and killing him. He had left them alone. Evil had come in the room, twice, and taken her. He wanted to kill that man so bad he could taste it. Instead, he turned back, walked to the bed and picked the child up. She never stirred.

He took her with him right after picking the object from the floor.

* * *

He killed the witch. It didn't make him feel better. She had arranged for the child to be sent away. She had a cousin who knew a Bennett witch in some small town. He didn't want to know where. It was safer for the child. The only loose end would be the witch who had arranged it all for him.

Now, there were no loose ends. Her child would be safe, away from him.

He had no use for her in his life, anyway. He didn't need the warmth of her little hands in his stubble matted cheeks. He didn't need the giggle she released when she woke up and looked at him. He didn't need the memories she brought of Henrik when he was the same age.

She had kissed his cheek. He had growled at her. She had been startled, only to dissolved in a fit of laugher. He never knew why, he did it again obtaining the same result. He didn't need that.

Not at all

Most of all, he didn't need to see her golden hair and blue eyes and that beautiful smile that will forever haunt him.

Her child will have a full life as much as a human could. He had guaranteed it.

* * *

**Romania, 2010**

"Are you ready to see her again?" Anja asked him eyeing him cautiously.

He wasn't in the mood for witch games. "Who?"

The witch laughed. In her strong accent, her eyes dancing with merriment, she announced "You know exactly who, Niklaus."

His eyes turned dangerously hard. "Don't. Call. Me. That."

She knew she had gone too far. "Your mate. The one in your soul."

He didn't answer her.

"Not even the spell the witches put on you per Mikael can stop what is destined to be. She's stronger and more beautiful than before. You'll meet her even if you try to evade her." The witch foretold. She had known Klaus for too many years and had dealt with him since she was a teenage witch. Their alliance had been beneficial to both.

"I don't evade anything. There was no point in going to her before, she wouldn't remember. There's no point in going to her now, she won't remember this time either." He would never admit the times he had gone to her last incarnation. He had accidentally run into her so many times at the library or the park. He had to stopped because he was about to harm her and he couldn't hurt her. "I don't believe in that foolishness."

"This time, everything will change. You'll break one curse soon; the other will follow not far behind." She said as if he had not spoken.

He got up and left. Anja wasn't upset. This was dealing with Klaus. He was done with her.

Klaus knew Anja was reliable. She was a powerful witch and foreteller. It was the reason he still went to her despite his hatred of witches. It wasn't that he didn't believe her; he had stopped believing in the concept of love or someone for him. Mikael and his witches had placed the curse on him that he would always evade true love. Even if he met her, she would always fight him and forget him and whatever they lived at the end of each day.

He had laughed when it was announced to him. Love, he had scoffed. It was a weakness. He told himself Chicago had been a fluke. He was obsessed with the woman and it had made him weak. It was because he couldn't have her. The child was just a random act of kindness. He was allowed one from time to time. He smirked, thinking of the way he had counteracted that kindness since that moment.

* * *

**_Mystic Falls, 2011_**

He sat in front of the fireplace, the perpetual glass of bourbon in his hand, Billie Holiday in the background.

_Never had nothing  
No one to care  
That's why I seem to have  
More than my share_

He had seen her again, Anja had been right. He had walked into that classroom with the intention to meet the doppelganger but yet again, he had been the one surprised. As he stared at his prized new possession, the golden halo of curls caught his eye and he found himself snapping his gaze towards it only to find those eyes. She looked at him expectantly even called him that ridiculous name. Mr. Saltzman. She didn't recognize him.

It hurt the way she didn't seem to notice him even if he was in another body. He would know her anywhere, in any body.

He threw the glass of bourbon against the fire making it roar higher. How dare she not remember anything about him when all his mind did when he was idle was replay her eyes, her smile on a loop?

Anger took over. He decided not to care. Never again would he be this fool. He wouldn't be pining for her as she spends time with her bus boy boyfriend or Lockwood boy or his old friend Stefan. Klaus was done. He would break the curse even if everyone in this town had to die. He would show no mercy. Ever.

* * *

He walked in to the study and threw his jacket on the chair. He walked to the side table as he ran his hands over his face. This was bad, really bad for him. He had saved her life. He had used her to prove a point and she ended up hurt with no one else could help her. Only he. He had swooped in and saved her. In the process, he had come face to face with what he tried to avoid. She was different to him. He couldn't watch her die, not again.

He strolled back to the desk and sat down. He was like a caged animal. Before he knew what he was doing he grabbed a pen and paper. His mind raced thinking of her face, of the way she bravely fought the pain. He wanted to forget the feel of her fangs on his wrist, the way she felt in his arm. The smell of her hair. He released a frustrated growl and put his pen down and looked at the paper.

He jumped back shaking his head. He had sketched her as she slept, as she had positioned her. Hugging the stuffed trinket on her side.

He crumpled the drawing and threw it in the fire in anger but as he watched it burn, he had to catch himself from reaching back in for it. It was her birthday.

He flashed upstairs to his room and went to the closet. He found the velvet box and retrieved it. He flashed back to her house and snuck in through the window. He placed the object on the nightstand and left like a thief in the night.

* * *

Not in this lifetime of hers. That is what hurt the most. After two more dances and seeing her as she is, the flawed girl, the control freak, the nagger, the fighter, the loyal lover, the great friend, the amazing warrior. He was breaking his own word to himself again, he had shown mercy. For her. Once again. He had let her free to pursue another because it wasn't meant to be. Not in this lifetime of hers. Again.

He boards the plane to New Orleans and closes his eyes. He can't think about it anymore.

Because if not in this lifetime of hers…

She's immortal.

* * *

**_Back to the present_**

_When I hurt his feelings  
Once in a while  
His only answer is one little smile_

"Caroline." He breathed in and out with her name as if to inhale the essence of her name then release it to the world.

He tried for nonchalance despite how that had never worked with her. He always ended up bending to her and for her.

Nothing being returned.

He was for her what he hated himself the most for. A panderer, beggar who did anything for a smile. He could have laughed at himself. He was a prophet. This was a vampire's greatest weakness indeed because even with full disclosure, he subjected himself to it. That's how weak he was. He wanted to see her happy, to see her smile and though it brought him heartache, he still chose sacrifice.

He tossed back the rest of his drink without taking his eyes of her.

She watched him, intently. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She lifted her hand and then put it down.

He watched the interaction in confusion; then it turned to disbelief. She reached for his face touching it the way she had done a lifetime ago. She leaned forward and kissed him, softly. The slow deliberate way her lips wrapped around his while her hands felt his face. It was like she was trying to make sure it was all there, as if searching from memory. He didn't move because still he didn't believe.

She pulled back to look in his eyes again. "I've always struggled to understand this hold." She said with her signature slight frown. "Why is it that while logic tells me to stay far away from you, there is something that pulls me? There's a reason why I can't stay away from you."

He swallows and forces the smirk. He's about to deflect the way he only could.

But she says it, taking the wind out of him and the floor from under his feet.

"I remember you, Klaus."

_I've got a man crazy for me  
He's funny that way_

* * *

_**So...what do you think?**_


End file.
